


shove me in the aftermath of this destructive path

by PartridgeOnAPearTree



Series: NSFW Bedi-tober Challenge [15]
Category: Fate/Grand Order, Fate/Prototype: Fragments of Sky Silver, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Arthur Alter?, F/M, Female Bedivere, Rule 63, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:54:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27426037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PartridgeOnAPearTree/pseuds/PartridgeOnAPearTree
Summary: NSFW Bedi-tober Day 15: Spanking(This is an AU where the Bedivere of the Prototype universe is a woman.)The king who was once warm and kind suddenly turned cold and harsh. It's even made more apparent now that he summoned Bedivere after she made a mistake in a mission.(Based on that rescue mission that Bedi talked about in his interlude and Arthur's wish in the Prototype novel.)
Relationships: Bedivere | Saber/Arthur Pendragon | Saber
Series: NSFW Bedi-tober Challenge [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952083
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	shove me in the aftermath of this destructive path

**Author's Note:**

> we're back boyos  
> as previously stated, i split the entries in two months for my own sanity haha. churning out 50k in one month bled me dry, but it's okay, i'm back and raring to go. let's see if i can come up with 50k this month too! 100k+ in 2020 let's gooo?

The king has changed, and Bedivere doesn’t know why.

She still clearly remembers his warm and kind smile. He greeted her and everyone with respect even if he's the king. He made everyone feel valued at all times regardless of who they are. Even Bedivere who was once no one but a humble and simple village girl, even when she became a knight and remained lackluster compared to her peers, Arthur still smiled at her just as kindly.

When she got discouraged and questioned her right to be in the Round Table, Arthur took the time to reassure her even if he too had his own troubles. She remembers clearly—the king himself was lamenting their most recent battle. Despite that, he comforted her when she stupidly brought up that she often wonders why the king would even take her in as a knight. And even if she will never feel as competent as her fellow knights, the king did truly believe that she belonged.

Even when his own heart was heavy, he found it in him to smile as she talked about mundane things about the villagers. He met her eyes as if they were equals, he listened closely to whatever she was saying no matter how irrelevant they were. He seemed refreshed and at peace. To Bedivere who didn’t see his smile often, that was everything.

She knew then and there that she would do anything for that smile—no matter how painful and grueling, even if it’s something that only she would do.

But the king has changed, and she doesn’t know why.

If she were to make a guess, she thinks that something might have happened to him. After all, if forced to pinpoint a time when the king started behaving peculiarly, Bedivere would choose that time he went back to Camelot from a village he visited alone. What she can recall is that it was a village on fire, and the king isolated himself from them for a good amount of time after that.

After that, he was colder, stricter, and more serious. She knows that she once glimpsed an uncharacteristically empty expression on his face, but that was a face that he only wore while striking down an enemy. What was once reserved for strictly enemies became a usual sight. What was once a rare smile became extinct altogether. He no longer returned Bedivere’s smile when she showed him hers in hopes of seeing that smile she yearned for.

And now, they're here.

The king has requested her presence in his study. She just came back from a failed mission to rescue a princess who was already dead before they even arrived. She's still quite demoralized from it, especially when her distress then led to her being unable to assist the king and Sir Kay from battling the enemy, but being requested by the king himself cheered her up. This feeling completely fades when she sees that he looked cold just like always.

“Good evening, my king.” She bows. She maintains her smile even if it hurt to see him like this because she always holds on to the hope that one of these days, he’ll return it again like he used to do. “May I be of assistance?”

“Lock the door behind you.”

The king doesn’t bother to look up from what he's doing. That, too, hurts, but she forces herself to keep smiling. She locks the door like she was told. “I’ve done it, my king. Did you need to talk about something important?”

Arthur continues scribbling whatever it is he's scribbling. Bedivere waits patiently. The longer her wait lasts, the harder it is to keep smiling. She just feels like a fool like this, but she doesn’t let it dissuade her. The smile stays as he flips from paper to paper without addressing her again.

It really felt like he just called her here to do nothing but stand. And she is about to accept that that’s all she has to do until he finally speaks again.

“Your behavior earlier was unacceptable.”

Bedivere’s smile immediately fades. She didn’t even need to try. She didn’t even need to think about it. It just fades by itself when she hears that. In its stead now sits an ashamed frown. “I'm sorry, my king… I do realize that what I did was unbecoming of a knight. It truly is unacceptable that I let myself get paralyzed by my emotions and let my king do the work. I'm truly sorry. I will accept any punishment that you see fit.”

“You were lucky that it was only Kay and I who witnessed what happened. What if there were more people? People would have judged you, and your actions would have reflected on me.”

“You're right. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry.” She can’t even lift her head. Her entire body is burning with shame.

“Remember that you were my first ever knight. I picked you even if a lot of people had things to say about that choice. If they saw you earlier, they’d be validated in doubting my choice. My credibility would forever be tarnished.”

“I'm sorry. I'm really sorry.” She can feel the familiar sting on the corner of her eyes. It was just like earlier too when she found out that the princess is already dead. “I swear on my honor that I’ll do better, my king. I will never want anyone to question you.”

“Will that really be enough? When you were knighted, you also swore to do your best. Mere words don’t offer much comfort now.”

“I’ll do anything you want to restore your confidence in me, my king. Anything you wish.”

Arthur regards her for the first time tonight. When their eyes meet, Bedivere just feels intimidated. They used to looked at each other before, and Bedivere would feel warm and peaceful. Now, she feels like crying and begging for forgiveness. She diverts her gaze back to the floor. She feels disrespectful meeting his gaze now even if back then they liked to do it as if they were equal companions.

“I need to make sure that you will never forget the gravity of your actions.”

“I'm sorry. Please deal with me as you see fit.”

He quietly sets aside whatever he's been working on. His eyes were directed on his desk, cold and contemplative. “…Take off your shirt.”

“…Huh?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Bedivere still doesn’t understand, but her body reacts by slightly trembling anyway. Her hands are shaky as she removes her shirt and stiffly remains standing where she is, discomfort all over her features. She has never bared this much skin in front of anyone before, much less a man. And she never really thought that it’d be in front of the king of all people.

“Your undergarments, too.”

“…What? May I ask what this is for?”

“No.”

She blinks. If she were to pick one word to encapsulate all that she's feeling, she would pick ‘disbelief’. “But… isn’t this… inappropriate?”

“What's inappropriate is your insistence to question my authority, Bedivere.”

“I-It’s not that I'm questioning you—”

“That’s exactly what you're doing.”

“I'm sorry. That wasn’t my intention. I just wanted to understand…” She never liked arguing. And she isn’t exactly ‘arguing’ right now, but it feels that way. “I’ve never shown that part of me with a man before…”

“Right now, we’re not a man and a woman. We’re a king and his knight. Take it off.”

She closes her eyes to stop her tears from falling. The king is right. It’s not like the king will ever perceive her as a woman anyway. She takes off her undergarments, freeing her breasts and feeling a breeze in parts of her body that are usually unexposed. The air isn’t even that cool, but the mere novelty of it makes her shiver.

Despite shivering, her face is hot. Her tears are hot. And her chest, too, is hot as she notices that his eyes remain blank despite her distress. “Turn around. Show me your back.”

She does so as she was told. It may really be better this way. At least, like this, she can hide her tears, and she can’t see the cold look on the king’s face. She can only hear his footsteps and the sound of him taking off the leather around his waist. He stands behind her, and she slightly jolts when he touches her. His hands are on both of her arms as he turns her around, remaining behind her, so that the both of them would be facing his desk once again.

He's so gentle. His hands are warm just like they were before. It makes Bedivere want to cry more. Even as he pushes her so that she’d be bending over the desk, his actions remain gentle. The sheer dichotomy of his actions and what currently is going on pains her heart. Her breasts press against the wood of the desk. The leather presses against her back.

She cries out when he lifts the belt and hits her back. The skin it touched stings. Before she can recover, he hits her again and again. The sound of leather making in contact with her back is all she can hear. Fire seems to have begun on skin, and it has no choice but to spread and scorch everything the more he covers more ground.

She bites her lip to subdue her cries, but she can’t keep small sniffles from escaping. It’s not about the pain. She has endured far worse in battle. It’s about how she has upset the king to this extent, about how the one doing this to her is the king who was once so warm and kind.

He runs the leather softly on her back. The momentary respite just made the subsequent blows hurt more. Another cry manages to escape her lips despite her best efforts.

“If I do something like this…” Arthur stops and caresses her back. “You'll be sure to remember.”

“Y-Yes, I—ah!” He hits her back with his hand this time. It somehow hurts more than the leather. “…Y-Yes… I promise that I will never forget…”

“As I said, you also promised to do your best as my knight.” Arthur leans forward to whisper to her ear. She shivers as his warm breath touches her ear, as his hair tickles her skin. “And you said that you’ll do anything to restore my confidence in you.”

“…I’ll endure it all, my king. I just… I just want you to be happy with me again.”

Arthur slips his fingers under her pants. “Stop crying. Weakness is unbecoming.”

She turns her head back to see what he's doing, but he hits her back again. She yelps and gets the hint. Maybe she doesn’t need to look anyway. Feeling is more than enough. She can feel that he's sliding off her pants. She can feel that her undergarments followed. And the entire time, she didn’t know what to think. There were too many thoughts in her head, too many ways for her body to react. All she can say for sure is that fear, shame, and surprisingly, intrigue were all present.

She focuses her energy to stop herself from crying. She doesn’t want to give the king more reasons to be upset.

But it gets harder when his hand hits her behind. Even if there are limited reasons for Arthur undressing her completely in a situation like this, it still takes her by surprise. She gasps, her legs twitching. Her knees hit the wooden desk, and he hits her again as if to punish her mere reaction.

She desperately bites her lower lip and closes her eyes. His hand gently caresses her. It feels almost intimate like this. If she's allowed to be completely frank, the truth is that she also once yearned for him as a woman. King Arthur, after all, was the perfect man—the perfect king, the perfect husband, straight from a dream. It was every girl’s fantasy to be wed to him.

But as early as the first time they met, Bedivere already realized that someone like her can’t possibly deserve the king. And since she still wanted to serve him, she wanted to be his knight. It’s the next best option that she can think of since she won’t be as impudent as to aim for being his wife. Whatever role she takes, all she knows is that she wants to dedicate her life to him.

His gentle gesture for such a private part of her body made her remember the fantasies that she would be too ashamed to admit.

And the harsh gesture that followed made her remember that she never deserved to have such fantasies in the first place.

She can only hiss as the sound of his hand meeting her behind fills her ears.

“Did you even think of the consequences of your actions?” Another deceitful caress. “What if you get confronted by a graver ordeal in the future? Will you freeze and cry as well?”

“No… I promise that I’ll never do that again…”

And another painful slap. Her skin feels tender now. Just the slightest touch has begun to hurt. “Kay and I were able to support each other well. But if it were a battle that greatly needed you, your weakness could have cost someone’s life. Because you allowed yourself to be defenseless, you could have been an unnecessary casualty, too. Understand this, Bedivere.”

“I-I'm so sorry. I didn’t want anyone to be in danger… I'm sorry.”

“Your apologies will be meaningless if you and your peers are dead. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t care who dies.” That can’t be right. The king is compassionate and wants the best for everyone. Something has distorted her king to this extent, and she doesn’t even know what it is. “But if I'm going to lose men because of your incompetence, then it will be inefficient if I keep you.”

“No… I'm sorry. Please don’t get rid of me… All I want to do with my life is to serve you.”

“Someone as weak as you cannot serve a purpose to me.”

“Please… Just let me dedicate myself to you. I beg you, my king.”

“Find other ways. Knighthood does not suit you.”

There are other ways to serve the king. That’s true. She wonders why she wanted to be a knight in the first place when she's so bad at it. She could have been a servant in the castle, and she would still be happy with it. She could have been someone who prepares the king’s meals, his bath, his bed. She could even be a jester. As long as she's serving the king, she would be satisfied.

There are so many ways, so at this moment, maybe she's just driven by desperation. Maybe she just suddenly is unable to come up with more complex thought. Maybe it’s just because her body is already bare anyway. So all she could say was, “…Can I serve you with my body, then?”

Arthur doesn’t reply. She can’t see his face, and she can’t even imagine what he looks like right now. All he does is caress her behind again. He drags his hand softly, and the skin still stings despite the gentle gesture. Slowly, his hand slithers downwards and downwards, slipping in between her legs, and reaching for her.

She closes her eyes. She thought that she was going to be rejected. She thought that she would offend the king for even asking. His fingers are slow, moving with no other purpose but to simply touch. He seems as if he is curious just like her. One finger slips inside. She only realizes then how wet she is.

Ah, how shameful. All this time, even if she forced herself not to, she still yearns for the king in this way.

He inserts another finger. She raises her lower body to give him easier access. His movements immediately pick up their speed and become rougher, but it doesn’t hurt. If anything, she wants more. She moves closer, desperate to get his fingers deeper. Instead, he pulls his fingers out and hits her behind again.

“I’ll do it the way I want.”

“A-Ah, sorry, my king…”

She keeps still even if she wanted to be closer to the king. He resumes roughly thrusting his fingers inside her. Despite the speed and strength he has in doing this, it still felt good for Bedivere. If anything, it hurt more that she couldn’t get closer. It hurt more that it was completely unlike her fantasies.

In her imagination, the king would be warmer. He would let her get closer to him… no, they’d already be close in the first place. Instead of a position where she's pressed against the desk like this, she would be on his bed with him, granted a privilege that no one has ever had before. He would kiss her and say loving words, all the while touching her to make her feel good.

She snaps out of her fantasy when the king thrusts his fingers inside particularly hard. She covers her mouth to stifle a cry. She hears Arthur undressing, and shortly enough, he feels his cock pressed against her entrance. Her heart won’t stop beating madly. She still can’t believe that the king is actually agreeing to this. Somehow, the sides of her eyes sting. She didn’t want it to be like this, but maybe this is the best that she can get.

He slips his cock inside her. And though it slid in easily because of how wet she is, it still hurt a bit. Despite so, all she can really think is ‘ _I want to see his face_ ’. She wants to see his face while he thrusts inside her with no care like this. She wants to know what kind of face the king who was once gentle would make in a situation like this where he's acting so… selfishly.

He's moaning lowly. Bedivere had to focus to hear him better. And when she hears those moans, it hurts less somehow. It’s okay like this. She has endured more. If it’s for her king, it’s okay. He moans as he thrusts inside deeper, his hands firmly grabbing her hips. She feels so stretched out like this, but even so, all she really wants is accommodate him more. She wants her body to be so perfect for his needs. Maybe, that way, she can finally be useful.

Arthur spanks her again. She tightens around him, and he seems to have liked that because he immediately hits her behind again right after. She just feels so overwhelmed like this. His cock is touching deeper and deeper inside her, and the places that he hit sting. The tears that she tried so hard to fight escape her eyes despite her wishes.

His rough thrusts don’t hurt anymore, but they don’t feel good either. If it’s pleasurable at all, it’s just because she's happy to serve him. His hands snake towards her waist, and he wraps her in a firm embrace. She places her hands on his arms even if she fears that she’ll get pushed away.

He doesn’t. Somehow, he doesn’t.

If anything, his embrace tightens even more as he thrust faster and deeper.

Bedivere wanted to talk during doing something like this with him. Words like ‘ _does it hurt?_ ’, ‘ _does it feel good?_ ’, or maybe even what she doesn’t want to admit the most, ‘ _you're beautiful_ ’. But all that transpired here was thrust after thrust accompanied by nothing but low, muted groans.

Even until he finishes and tenses inside her, thrusting deeper for the last time, he doesn’t say anything.

He discards her used body, and she had to rely on the desk to keep herself from falling.

Even she couldn’t speak.

“Don’t be a knight anymore.” Those were the words that Bedivere heard as his arms held onto her so tightly they left marks on her skin, his lips very lightly ghosting on her back. “If you're going to cry and break down… don’t be a knight anymore.”

\--

“Mmm, everything you said was right. The king really did change.” Merlin says. No hint of trepidation was in her voice. She uttered the words as if they were just something to be said.

Bedivere’s face was contorted into what felt like a permanent frown. “Why? What happened to him? How can you be so unbothered?”

“I'm just an advisor, you know. What type of king he wants to be, what goals he wants to achieve—it’s all up to him. My role is merely to advise and come up with the best way to get there. That’s all, that’s it.”

“What?” Bedivere slowly shakes her head. Her eyebrows are furrowed as she looks at Merlin’s small and calm smile. “What do you mean? What kind of king does he want to be? What happened?”

“When he went to that burning village, no one was alive. No one but a lone boy who also was about to die.” She hums. “Let’s just say that that inspired him.”

“Inspired him? Please talk more clearly, Merlin.”

“He wants to build an everlasting utopia. One where no one innocent will have to suffer again. For something like that, he has to be willing to cast judgment to those who are not innocent and of course, in the first place, decide what ‘innocent’ means. I had to help him dull his emotions so that he can eventually reach his goal.”

“…W-What? I don’t… I don’t even know where to start. Why would you help the king with something like that?”

“As I said, he decides, I help.” Merlin chuckles. “Now, now, it’s fine. Don’t worry too much. He's still not yet too far gone. After all, he still cares about you, right?”

“…It doesn’t feel like he does.”

“He's still unknowingly resisting my magic which causes him to be a bit confused and act a bit inconsistently.” Merlin smiles. “But I'm sure, if you look harder, you'll see what I'm talking about.”

“Please cease your spell, Merlin. He must have made his decision during a great amount of stress… I imagine he must have been so upset when he failed to save that village and wasn’t thinking clearly. Please turn the king back to normal…”

“Well, that’s up to him. Maybe he’ll snap out of it on his own if he sees how much tears you’ve shed for him.” Merlin places a hand on her shoulder. “Until then, you can keep crying, right?”

**Author's Note:**

> next prompt is lactation. come back here if you're into that :)


End file.
